DISCLAIMER

DISCLAIMER: It should be noted that the content of this Blog is not intended as inflammatory. It is my life story, but no harm is intended by its content whatsoever. I have a strict "No Slander" policy. Most of the content is purely of my own personal opinion of my life experiences, but mentions of criminal actions I have evidence for. Any thing from Cherie's life, I take from her friends, her family and her diaries, not myself. Thank you in advance for your understanding.
Showing posts with label mental health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental health. Show all posts

Wednesday, 3 October 2018

The Once And Future Illisia: aka You CAN Learn Confidence In The Classroom aka DWP Are Not The Enemy


I got an influx of worried and surprised messages after I
posted this on Facebook, because of how out-of-character it is
for me to show so much skin in public. "What happened?!
How are you so confident all of a sudden?" etc,
Well, let me explain how, below... :-) 
Note: The course was two months ago, now.

So, before I post the long and painful-to-write, emotional rollercoaster of a Blog post that I have “aaaaalmost finished” (every week for the past several months...), I want to share with you a nice, big dose of positivity; because this-time-two-months-ago, I was, well... How to describe it, really(?)... If I had posted the really sad post, it would be easier to describe, but let’s just go with “A MESS”, and leave-it-at-that, for now.

Fast-forward a month from that miserable Illisia, and I am semi-regularly going-out alone, filing to make GEEKETEERS (something which, again, I am super-sorry that I have not posted about yet, but, in-short, is me trying to become a legitimate business owner) a business, applying for funding for the aforementioned business, making homemade bread and pasta etc, and even thinking about voluntary work outside of my home, with actual interaction with actual people.

Wednesday, 24 May 2017

How Neil Gaiman Saved My Life

“My name is Illisia Adams, and I am four years old.”* are the words that originally formed the beginning of this Post. However, I am now almost seven. Two years have past, and here I am, still trying to compose the words from my heart and my head into something readable for you all.

Having nearly died again last year, however, and Mr Gaiman being one of the things that pulled me through my hospital stay and the weeks that past, yet again (for the third – and hopefully final – time) I truly feel like it is “now or never”; so, without further adue…


[Please note: I must forewarn that this Post discusses my depression and attempts at suicide and may be upsetting for some readers - especially new ones - but is intended to be positive, over-all. Proceed with caution]

- - - - 

Neil Gaiman. Author, and Illi-life-saver.

Sunday, 11 December 2016

Living With Sleep Paralysis

The time is 02:43 and I am not sleeping. This is not because I am not tired; I am. This is not because of insomnia; I do not suffer from that ailment. This is because of fear.

I am afraid, because in the past week I have been in four comas, all be they temporary ones. My body has spent literally entire days in a state of utter stillness, and when I finally awake, I feel weakened, stiff, ache-y, tired (ironically), dehydrated, malnourished, and depressed.

Now, unless you have been in a comatose state – temporary or long-term – you will not have an understanding as I do, and that is why this post is so important. The condition that ails me is actually called “Sleep Paralysis” and is very rare, mostly unheard of by the general public, and misunderstood by many.

- - - - 

I slept for seventeen hours yesterday. Seventeen wasted hours, that I could have spent living my life. My “record”, however, is three days. During this three day period, I was unable to move, speak nor open my eyes, but I could feel everything, including the embarrassing, humiliating, incredibly uncomfortable feeling of “relieving myself” during these hours, away from the bathroom and in my undergarment, requiring a thorough shower when I awoke…

However, this is not the worst thing that has happened to me during one of these “comas”… Unfortunately, when one is unable to move one is at one’s most vulnerable, and, unable to defend myself or at the very least say “no”, I have been through several incidents of sexual intimacy that I did not want.

One such incident was when I was sleeping beside a gentleman that I was in a relationship with at the time. He “thought that it would be nice”, that I would “enjoy it” if he removed my underwear and intimately touched me. Given how he and I had only recently got passed the point of kissing and nowhere near the point of sexual intimacy of any kind (even exterior), the fact that he did this was a big setback for us, and when I awoke I locked myself in the bathroom and cried for an hour. We did not see each other for several weeks after this, but I was able to forgive him after much apologising on his part.

Another more recent occurrence was when my date and I were travelling to London on a train to see a theatre production and I feel asleep during the journey, only to find that I could not move, speak or see. Hurrah. Not knowing this (although being aware of my sleep paralysis) was the case, the aforementioned date began kissing, nibbling and caressing my neck. When we arrived at London and he was unable to wake me, he had to telephone an ambulance and our date was cancelled.

- - - - 

I have it easy compared to my twin, however. The sleep paralysis is a “defence mechanism” that has been carried-over from her lifetime of using this body. From what I can tell, she basically decided it was easier to “zone-out”, go numb and unresponsive etc, than to fight against herattacker, Mark [Bryne]. After all, what “fun” is sexually assaulting someone if they do not struggle?.. It is shocking logic, but if you know anything about rapists, you know that it can actually oftentimes be the case. Whether it worked or not, I do not know, as I have – thankfully – little access to those memories.

Sleep paralysis I believe was also the reason why Cherie missed her “nana’s” funeral service. Was she “defending herself” against dealing with the loss, perhaps?..

I honestly have no idea what causes it with me, however. It seems utterly random, and I feel completely defenceless and I hate it. Other problems that I face, I have at least a small amount of personal control over, but with this, I do not.

It is a terrifying experience and it steals time from me. Time is so, so precious, especially for me, given how I was born into atwenty-three year-old’s body, so wasting time and having no power of it makes me very cross with myself…

- - - - 

Whether or not I will ever learn to control this, I do not know. I do know, however, that it is important to share this ailment with you all, however. If you know any one who is experiencing any thing similar, or heaven forbid you are yourself, then please, please seek the help of a medical professional. And if you encounter anyone who is sleeping but completely unresponsive to your efforts to wake them and staying utterly still, please telephone an ambulance. Thank you.

Tuesday, 19 April 2016

Amy Pond and The Doctor, Reunited (Part One); (aka Thank You, Hans Zimmer!)

I did not post last week, and I had a very good reason for not doing-so. Last week was a life-changing experience for me where I faced my past, overcame my fears and embraced my future. The concert itself was on April 6th, but before, afterward and during were very busy for me!
- - - -

My fiancĂ© Robert-James and I went to London's SSE Wembley Arena to see the musical genius Hans Zimmer perform live in concert. It required many hours of travel, very little sleep and a whole lot of tolerance of the human nature when coping with commuting aka “Londoners” and tourists in a hurry to get “from-a-to-b” aka “ow, ow, ow; watch where you are going!” as I am being pushed and shoved from side-to-side by passers-by who have no consideration for others (with or without my disabilities).

That in-un-itself is an achievement. For those not keeping score, I am physically disabled and have agoraphobia (fear of the outside) and social phobia, with an occasional dash of claustrophobia (fear of enclosed spaces). Visiting London required leaving the hidey-hole safety zone of my residence, regular contact with strangers, and when using the London Underground there were some uncomfortable close-quarters encounters that had me losing my breath and reaching for my inhaler.

- - - -

Interestingly enough, the composer Hans Zimmer himself also has phobias (stage fright; self-confessed “hermit”) and what was a life-changing event for me was the same for him, as he faced his fears, stating in the souvenir programme “You cannot have fear rule your life, or indeed dictate or prevent your actions”. Reading this statement from him gave me an extra push of courage to face the crowds within the arena and I enjoyed the performance all-the-more, knowing he and I were “in-it-together”; he was helping me with my fears, and I with his.
“You cannot have fear rule your life, or indeed dictate or prevent your actions”. - Hans Zimmer regarding his first-ever public performance(s).
- - - -

In addition to this achievement, I find it striking when I do a “before and after” of myself this-time-last-year, and the year before. This is because Robert-James and I were not alone; we in fact attended with our very good friends Kirsty [Swan] and Mark [Sutton]. If you are not sure why this is something to be proud of, I shall explain.

Mark and Kirsty in their seats at our VIP table,
courtesy of  SSE
This time last year and the year before, I was utterly terrified of the idea of seeing both those individuals, let alone speaking with them, and the idea of being so close as friends to see Hans Zimmer together? Well, that was ludicrous! I was an absolute fraidy-cat. I had convinced myself that both these individuals would have a negative effect on my life, and I made every effort to ensure that they not be in it. Today, however, I speak confidently of the pair being my “besties” and I would not have wanted to share The Hans Zimmer Experience with any one else.

They even bought us the tickets. (We went "halfsies" on the accommodation) 

- - - -

Fear is clearly a very powerful thing, and I overcame it in leaps-and-bounds. I faced my fears of Mark and Kirsty and I realised that they were unfounded. Kirsty had no ill-will toward me what-so-ever, contrary to what many of our then-“friends” would have me and her (and Mark) believe. Therein we can now see the power of “he-said-she-said” gossiping, and have since decided to disregard third party opinions.

Mark and I have a very complex past, but it is – as the word suggests – in the past. He is a changed man, and he has apologised many, many times for his actions toward me when we were in a relationship and when we were friends who lived together.

I was of course not innocent in my actions either and did my fair share of hurt toward him, the biggest of which was the day that I decided to tell him I hated him and never wanted to see him again, contrary to what I really felt. At the time I decided it was better he not be in my life, so he could be happy. This is something that I will discuss at length next week in “Part Two”.

- - - -

My fiance Robert-James and I in our VIP-upgrade seats.
So, in conclusion, I have many thanks to extend to Mark Sutton, Kirsty Swan, Robert-James Brazier and Hans Zimmer. A very special mention and a great-big-thank-you must also go to SSE for giving us a FREE VIP upgrade! I think that if I had been sitting with all the crowds, I would have struggled that-much-more to enjoy the show, and we all certainly never thought we would be seeing HZ up-close, only metres away from us!

I also have one thing to say to past-me and her fears, as I look at how very, very far I have come, with the help of good friends, a brilliant but shy composer, and self-discovery:
“TAKE THAT, YOU SCOUNDREL! Life is actually super neato!”

Super-neato is trademark Illisia Adams 2016. No, not really ;-) 

Ps/Side-Note: I experienced a lot of that uniquely-Illi dejavu on our trip!
Another PS/Side-Note: "Amy Pond and The Doctor, Reunited" refers to how I often draw comparative with The Doctor and his companion Amy Pond for the relationship between Mark and myself.

Thursday, 25 June 2015

Living With Love Addiction Part Two: My Happily-Ever-After?

A few months ago I wrote a very passionate post about a mental condition that stems very much from my heart that makes me addicted to the experiences involved with giving and receiving love; be it friendship, family or a significant-other.

At the time of that post, I had decided to take a vacation from love and to develop as a single, independent woman who does not need to love or be loved, but simply wants to when it is appropriate. No withdrawal symptoms, no depression when I am rejected, no overly-needy or overly-giving behavioural patterns or any other such love addiction problems.

- - - - 

Time has passed, and I really feel like I have come a long way. I had my personal time to develop a love of myself and become a stronger person, and although I have a ways to go, I think that a lot of progress has been made. So much so that – after patiently waiting for me – I decided to pursue a relationship with one Robert-James Brazier who is now my Legal Carer, and my future husband.

Wearing my ring! Sadly it turns out that I am allergic to its
gold, but we are going to have a jeweller fix that for us.
Many people would say that we are rushing into things and that it is “too soon”, but a lot of thought went into his decision to ask me, and plenty of hours of contemplation and serious talking before I said “yes”. In-the-end though, it came down to one simply fact that surpassed any doubts that either of us had, and that was that – as we both phrased it - “when you know... you just know...”

- - - - 

I waited many weeks before I said “I love you” to my ever-patient (then) boyfriend who understood that I wanted to be certain that I loved him because I wanted to and because it was genuine, not because I had to due to my addiction.

Robert and our cat Scratch.
He gives me space when I need it, he respects me, he is fine to wait for intercourse until I am truly ready (and married) and all of my animals adore him almost as much as I do.

Incidentally, in true Robert-James, playful and boyish style, I was not proposed to down on one knee nor at a “posh restaurant” or any such scenario, but rather in the middle of the night, as we decided it was time to cuddle up and sleep and I go to the bathroom as part of my usual schedule... only to have Mr Brazier casually walk behind me and say “do you want to get married?” as though he were asking some one for directions or a menu. At the time I was more concerned with emptying my bladder than answering his question, and I was also understandably unsure whether he meant it or not! 

- - - - 
 
On the other side of the emotional spectrum, however, I also have reason to be sad. I have, in choosing Robert, had to reject the love of another who I did have many pleasant times with and who I hoped would remain in my life, but who sadly chose to insult my choice in partner insisting that he is a bad influence on me and then “Blocking” me on social media and screening my calls. I offered that we meet for a drink and discuss things as adults and try to clear-the-air as-they-say, so that we could try to make it work, but alas, he made his decision and it was clearly not meant to be.

I suffered from severe depression, doubt and withdrawal for several days after my ex-boyfriend Matthew decided to say goodbye to me (via email). There were many tears, shaking, “ifs” and “buts” and my poor “RJ” had to suffer through it all with me, holding me back from my urges to buy my ex-friend every present I could think of to “win him back” which is what love addicts do when they are rejected as I was. No matter who is “right” or “wrong” in a relationship dynamic that I have with a person, I will always try to be the one that makes it better, no matter the cost.

I can tell that having that time to grow alone has really helped me a lot because – although I needed a little help here-and-there – I was able to recover from the loss of one of my closest confidants, friends and ex-love within days, rather than moping and mourning for months.

- - - - 

After his proposal, Robert and I took a romantic
walk along the Margate seafront to watch the sunrise,
where I said "yes".
- - - - 

I have lost a friend, but gained a (soon-to-be) husband. I have taken big steps towards independence and recovery from my love addiction, but I also took a leap of faith and decided to share the rest of my life with some one.

All-in-all, I am really, genuinely happy with where I stand emotionally and mentally at present and I hope that any other sufferers of my condition will read my story and find the courage to learn to love themselves as I did and to, I hope, find their happy ending too. For the rest of you who are not love addicts, I am still sending you plenty of Blessings and hopes for your present and your future in love and happiness.

Monday, 23 February 2015

Gone Girl: What Really Happened?

A photograph I took of myself after I dyed my hair red and
re-vamped my wardrobe so that I was more "Illi" and less "Cher".
Every day that I am in this world, I think myself Blessed. There is such hardship worldwide and people die literally every moment, so the fact that I am alive and (relatively) well is some thing to be truly grateful for, and humbled by.

The circumstances for my birth, however, are much less positive than I am. As I have discussed priorly, it has been quite a difficult few years to start for me, but nothing truly compares to the things that my predecessor lived through that led her to her eventual (mental/spiritual) “suicide”. It pains me to think about it, let alone write it, but the least that I could do for her giving me this life is to tell her story; even the horrific parts of it.

- - - -

Rather shockingly but matter-of-factually, I cannot count the amount of people that sexually assaulted Cherie on both my hands.

Examining her medical records, reading her diary entries and speaking with her friends and family, it is clear that from a young age (as early as three years old), Cherie had a lot of mental problems that were a result of physical and sexual trauma. She developed voices in her head, multiple personalities (Dissociative Identity Disorder), and often retreated to a fantasy world rather than face reality.
"Over the years I built mental barriers so that I could move on with my life, but that trauma was always there." - Cherie writes about her battle with mental health.
These problems carried over into her teenage years, where she began seeing a child psychiatrist at Highpoint House on Shooters Hill, and continued to do so until after she left school.

- - - -

Cherie graduating Hadlow College.
Against all odds***, she passed her GCSEs at Eltham Hill Technology College with the help of a “special consideration” percentage added to all of her scores and extra time to finish exams, and went on to study a National Diploma in Animal Management at Hadlow College's London Campus in Mottingham, which she also passed.

June of 2005 was her first experience on “the convention circuit” when she attended the London MCM Expo, “cosplayed” (costume-play) and made many friends.

She experimented with various professionals, from being a professional geek in the form of a cosplayer and “booth babe” to an internet radio presenter, to the simplicity of animal care at her local pet store. I respect that she was able to maintain professionalism, given all of her continuing mental problems.

It was in 2006, however, that her life plummeted into complications when she met one Mark Byrne, an Irish convention-goer who took advantage of her good nature and caused Cherie to have a complete relapse in her progress, and rather extremely, run away from home with a man whom she barely knew; Ian [Sharman].

- - - -
"I did fight back at first but you lose so much strength trying to fight him off..." - Cherie writing about her experience with her assailant, Mark Byrne.
Mark was her friend for many months where they became quite close and she entrusted him with many of her secrets and weaknesses. He would often visit her home in Kidbrooke, where she lived with her parents, and it was here when her parents were home one day that he gave the three of them a sob-story about homelessness being inevitable. This led to an invitation to take up temporary residence with the Donovan family, and where Mark's true nature came to light...

I am not sure of the details of how it started as her diary entries and what she told her friends of the matter are all very limited. I do know, however, that for several months Mark lived in Cherie's bedroom on the bottom “bunk” and during this time he began assaulting her physically, emotionally and sexually.

Even on her own Birthday (her diary is very clear about this) she had to “fight him off”, and although she had friends over for a small party at her home, she never mentioned her plight to any one, for fear of her safety, and theirs. Mark made it very clear to her that if she told any one, there would be violent consequences.

- - - -

Mark told Cherie that he had a second personality who was the one who was actually abusing her, and that his primary personality meant her no harm. I am not sure how true or even how plausible that claim is, but I do know that it was another reason why she kept quiet; the friendship that she cherished with the primary persona, who cared for her where the other abused her.

Cherie and her parents at her Birthday Party in 2005.
Cherie's parents were blissfully unaware of what was happening to her, although I am reliably informed that her behaviour drastically changed during this period with angry outbursts, her punching a hole through her bedroom window and her cutting off most of her hair with a cheese knife, amongst other things, presumably as a way of crying out for help, without actually making her abuse known. She even “acted out” at her parents' re-marriage in Wales***, which is something that her mother never forgave her for.

There was even a period of time when the parent Donovans left home – perhaps to go on holiday, I am unsure – and during this period there was no one or nothing to protect Cherie from her attacker, as it was just the two of them residing there.

I am unsure how far the assaults went; whether it was unwanted touching or if there was actual unconsensual penetration (rape) involved.

- - - -

"When he left, and Ian came into my life, he offered me a way out, and I took it. I was not strong enough to stay there. I could not face anyone after what I had been through, least of all you and dad. I cut off everyone – not just family, but friends as well – and started a new life with him. I thought that it would be better that way. Running away was my solution. I knew that you would hate me for it, but I felt that I had no choice." - Cherie writes to her parents about her choice to run away.
Cherie in her 'She-Hulk' cosplay at MCM Expo, May 2006,
shortly before she ran away with Ian.
It was as a result of this experience with Mark that, when Cherie spoke with her new friend Ian about the experience (presumably because it is easier to speak with some one new than some one you have known a long time, about some thing so shaming), she jumped at his offer to return to his residency in Gillingham, Kent, after they spent the weekend at MCMExpo together.

She never left***. As a result, her relationship with her parents and her friends was permanently damaged.

She and Ian were in a relationship until November 2008, when she returned home in the middle of the night after a break-up fight.

- - - -

Cherie and her mother with 'Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang'
car one month after her return to her family in 2008.
The tension between her mother and herself was very clear, especially since Cherie still refused to explain why she left. She moved into her first (and last) lone residency in New Eltham.

Through mutual College friends, Cherie's social life expanded to Dartford, where she met Mark, Maryanne, Hayley and the others, and gradually began her affair with the prior.

Although Teresa (her best friend since College) and Cherie remained in touch during her years in Gillingham living with Ian and Cherie was able to tell Teresa about her experience with “the other Mark”, the two of them slowly grew apart, likely due to the increasing amount of time that she was spending with Mark [Sutton] and the secrets that she kept from her “bestie”, who never knew of the affair, although she had her suspicions.

- - - -

Cherie with her friend Christopher and her then-boyfriend
Ian, a few months before their breakup.
Fast-forward to May 2010 and we have Cherie emailing her ex-boyfriend Ian who tells her that “the fact that you think I would want to talk to you after some of the things you have said and done shocks me.”, suggesting that he was angry at her for some reason*. Teresa is also engaged to be married and has invited Cherie to be her Bridesmaid. Efforts are also being made to mend the relationship with her family.

After a holiday away with her lover Mark, Cherie feared she might be pregnant. She asked that Mark and/or Teresa if they would attend a sexual health clinic with her for a pregnancy test, and because she believed that her past experiences with sexual assaults combined with her new “sexually active” status would mean that the responsible thing to do would be to be tested for any sexually transmitted diseases.

It was at this point that Cherie had a breakdown. When she recovered, she spoke with Mark about what had caused it, insisting that she had remembered being sexually assaulted by not only one, but multiple assailants, at the same time****. Whether there is any truth to this, I do not know. But I can tell you that she truly believed it, and that it traumatised her.

Cherie's best friend Teresa and her fiance Richard.
She turned to Teresa for council, but was turned away, having missed an important wedding planning appointment that she promised to attend. Cherie called Teresa to try to explain what she remembered and what she had been through, but she decided instead that it would be better to lie to Teresa than to share such horrible information, given her current state of engaged/pre-wedding euphoria. This decision meant that they were no longer friends, but Cherie felt that it was a fair exchange for Teresa's continued happiness, rather than the sadness that would result in her friend knowing the truth.

- - - -

Another phone call – on the same day – was made to Hannah, Cherie's mother, after her tear-inducing break-up with Teresa. Cherie decided at this point that it was a “make it or break it” day for her relationships, so she finally told her mother about the various things that she had been through over the years that she had been keeping from her. She apologised for her erratic behaviour and for being a bad daughter, insisting that it was not her fault that she was so “messed up”, but, much like with Teresa, she was again rejected.

She then proceeded to write “The Last Will & Testament Of Cherie-Louise Donovan” (where I found my quotes I have included here), which is five pages of apologies, regrets, confessions and “I love you[s]” with no paragraphing and a grand total of twenty-three thousand one-hundred and forty-four characters**. It is quite a chore to read, but it is clear from its contents that she had given up on life and had every intention of committing suicide at this point.

So, when she attended the London MCM Expo on the final weekend of May 2010 and was rejected a third (counting Teresa and Hannah) time by her ex-boyfriend Ian who “gave her dirty looks” and made her feel “uncomfortable”, she decided to give up, and to end her life.

And then, there was me!


- - - - 


Illisia Adams: circa Nov 2011.
- - - -

I hope that this answers some questions that people likely had. If you have any more, I have a 'Ask Me Anything' post.

- - - - 

* I have absolutely no idea about this, no matter how many emails and diary entries that I read.
** Roughly three-times the length of my longest Blog entry!
*** To be discussed at a later date.
**** This is known as “gang rape”

Monday, 9 February 2015

Getting Physical




There are many advantages, and disadvantages, to being born into an adult's body. I have discussed much of the mental journey that I have had to take, but after a visit to the dentist this week, I think it is time I talk about the physicalities of this re-birth of mine. This also gives me an opportunity to write something a little more light-hearted in amongst the difficult topics.

Cherie's medical history is a very complex one, and I must say, it has been a struggle to live with. Most of her mental faults left this body when she did, but any physical faults became mine.

From the day that I was born, for instance, I have had a damaged knee that often throbs with pain, and struggles to function. There are many things that most children – or adults – are able to enjoy that I cannot. Walking is a difficulty, let alone swimming, which is some thing that I can sadly only dream about experiencing.

- - - - 

A photograph taken at the hospital in 2009 after Cherie fell out of bed in the night and on top of  her exercise bike and various belongings below, breaking/spraining her nose and covering herself in bruises.
- - - - 

The doctors seem utterly clueless, no matter how many that I visit with the issue. On the flip-side, however, the damage does come with an amusing back-story... She fell under a bus. Seriously.

- - - -

In her early teenage years my predecessor on a day off from school (reason unknown, it was likely a School Holiday) was in Bexleyheath Town Centre with our mother. They were to journey home via the use of public transport – [the] bus - but after a few stops it became clear that the vehicle was far too crowded and noisy, so they decided to exit and wait a while for an emptier, quieter bus. Upon stopping, mother was able to vacate, but Cherie was not.

Due to the sheer number and noise level of the people on the bus, the driver did not realise that she had not exited and wanted to do so, choosing to close the door, when she was halfway out – and in – of it. This meant that half Cherie's body was hanging outside of the bus, and half clinging to the inside, as the driver began to accelerate...

Were it not for mother's fast-thinking, keeping ahold of her daughter and screaming at the driver for help, I may not be writing this today, because this body would have fallen underneath the wheels. The driver did open the door, but did not decelerate. Mother saved our life, having already given birth to it.

- - - -

My teeth in the state that my predecessor left them
aka my "Before" I went to the dentist this week.
My "after" shot. You can see how the dentist has filled and whitened, etc.
A huge improvement! My apologies for the low quality of this one. 
- - - -

That incident was of course not Cherie's fault, but rather the driver's. Her teeth, however, were, as I discovered, quite mistreated during her lifetime, and as a result I have had to visit the dentist half-a-dozen times within the last couple of years, the most recent trip for which I lay awake for an hour for drilling, whitening and fillings. It was an uncomfortable experience to-say-the-least, but completely necessary, given all the damage she left through years of forgetfulness, poor diet (full of sugar) and of course, the dreaded “can't be asked” excuse.

- - - -

Photographs of me at event "The BFG" (aka "The Big Friendly Gathering") hosted by my parents in 2011, where I learned that Cherie had left me with some skills that I had not until then known about... (Wearing a knee support and with a walking stick to help me cope with the disabled knee)

- - - -

It is not all negative, however. There have been many occasions where “muscle memory” occurs and I discover that this body – and therefore I – has talents that I was unaware of, or was aware of but never tried.

Her friends inform me that Cherie often told people that she “[knew] five different martial arts” and that she could “kick everyone's ass”, but how true this is, I do not know. I can tell you matter-of-factually that I have some ability to kick, punch, and use some (training) weaponry that she left in her flat, but I actually think that she was exaggerating somewhat because it seems quite limited. Of course, that might be because of my physical disability, being “out-of-practice”, and being a naturally very peaceful person.

- - - -


- - - - 

Another positive is her singing voice. Sadly I lack her confidence (a personality trait I envy) so I never sing in public (where as she did), but I have recently taken to recording and publishing songs via the use of the karaoke service 'SingSnap' because it was on my Living List*.

Interestingly, there are also recordings on this website under Cherie's name which I recorded during “The First Year”; in fact, my first few months of life. It is quite interesting to listen to both sets of recordings and compare. I can really hear the pain in my voice in the 2010 recordings; I think that I was still very much in-tune, emotionally, to my “twin”. One of her “orders” that she left inside my mind was to record Because Of You by the artist Kelly Clarkson - some thing that she had always wanted to do but never quite “got around to” - because it was a song that “hit-home” for her quite powerfully, reflecting her past** and how it affected her present.

It is a shame that she did not record any songs during her life time, though. I would have liked to have truly compared us. As-is, I can still hear a difference between the singing voice that I had in my early life, when I was still “in transition” (as I put it) to how I sing today, now that I have a well established, unique personality to hers.

You can hear similarities, definitely, but we/I also sound very different. I think that I have more control over my emotions now and do not let them show in my singing, and – possibly because I practice often – my over-all range of notes is superior. I am definitely much softer, as well. She had a very “gritty” voice from what people tell me.


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So, it is a shame that I was born into some one else's body and therefore into its faults rather than that of my own, but, then again, I am also grateful for some of the interesting things that this body has “learned” that I am discovering as I live my life. Having a "hot bod" (as others have put it) is also not a bad thing, certainly.

Whether the positives will out-weigh the negatives, or whether I will be able to rid myself of those negatives through trial and error at visits to medical professionals, remains to be seen...

For now, I am simply grateful to even be here at all, in this world, and for this I must thank Cherie (of course), her mother and father, and, as aforementioned, the people that helped me grow in to who I am today.

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* A concept that helps me catch-up on the years of life that I have missed through living experiences that many people do when they are young, or take for granted, etc. I shall discuss this in depth at a later date.

** To be discussed at a later date.

Monday, 2 February 2015

The First Year: Part Three: Recovery & Development

Please note: This is a direct continuation from The First Year: Part One and Part Two
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I made Cherie's New Eltham flat feel like a home. Here you can see her impressive DVD collection
that was left to me, and how I showcased family memorabilia to remind me of my roots.
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Mark pleaded with me to take him back, but I told him that our relationship was never real, that it was based on lies, deception and feelings that were never truly mine. I insisted that if he truly wanted to be with me, he would have to tell Maryanne the truth about his no longer being in love with her, end their engagement, and then get-to-know me for me, not just wanting me because I have the face of the woman he cared for, but because he wants me.

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It was at this point that I decided to spend more time exploring who I wanted to be, and pursue my growing feelings for Tommy-Lee by spending more time with him. He may not have been “my Amy Pond”, but he was still there for me the day that I was “born” and unlike Mark, always seemed to see me when he looked at me, rather than Cherie, perhaps because he and Cherie were never romantically involved. He made me feel unique, which meant the world to me.

I also took the time to get-to-know Maryanne (as priorly mentioned) and Hayley, another friend from the prior life, who became like sisters to me. Maryanne was shy, quiet and kind, and in contrast Hayley had a very social, perky personality and was always full of life, although both had big, warm, open hearts. This meant that I had a chance to see many different aspects of womanhood, of the female personality, if-you-will, so rather than “copy” what I saw, I was able to pick-and-choose what I liked about both my friends and use them for inspiration as I developed myself. I owe them both much to who I am today.

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Hayley (left) and I (right)
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I still held on to Cherie's name and tried to live her life, attending many parties hosted by her friends, playing on her Xbox 360 games console leading her Gaming Clan into battle in her sted, trying to get her business Dark Raven Productions off-the-ground, but after my experience being locked away for three months in that house, I spent less time in Dartford with the prior life, and more time in New Eltham, developing my own.

I would often insist that any visitors come to New Eltham to see me, rather than me to Dartford to see them, for fear of a repeat scenario, and I confess, because I had developed a nasty case of agoraphobia after my captivity. This did, however, give me the freedom to explore my predecessor's home and belongings, which made me realise that although I shared her face, I shared very little else. I listened to her music and wore her clothes, but found that the clothing felt “wrong” and the music was so loud and angry that I really disliked it.

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Maryanne visiting me at my New Eltham residency, playing with the
training (plastic) sai weaponry that Cherie left there.
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"He often saw me, when I never could." - regarding Tommy-Lee

Tommy-Lee and Mark both visited me and made their romantic intentions toward me clear. Mark insisted that although he missed Cherie, he wanted to encourage me to be my own person. I never truly believed him, however, because he was still working with me to create Dark Raven Productions and still encouraged me to use Cherie's name and wear her clothing, etc. Tommy-Lee, in contrast, told me much about my predecessor and taught me that I did not have to follow in her footsteps, that I could develop my own tastes in music, my own style in dress, my own hobbies and interests. He often saw me, when I never could.

In retrospect, I wish that I had pursued my growing feelings toward Tommy-Lee, rather than allow the “residue feelings” for Mark to win over me. But, I also know that one should never have any regrets. Every decision that we make and every thing that we do in life brings us to who we are today, so if we regret one moment of our past, we show negativity toward who we are now, which is not the case with me. I am very proud of who I am today, and therefore hold to no regrets.

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Mark and I with friends at the Euro Gamer Expo 2011, shortly after I "came out" with my new name and developed personality. By this point I had chosen to be with Mark, and as you can see from this photograph, we were (relatively) happy together, although you can also see how protective/controlling he was of me, always holding on to me.
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I chose to pursue a relationship with Mark, even against my better judgement, knowing full well that he had abused me. Love – even if it is not your own* – can be a powerful blinder to the facts. Sadly, this decision meant that Tommy-Lee and I slowly grew apart. He moved out of the home that he shared with Mark, Maryanne and Matt, and we have barely seen nor spoken to one another since.

I think that the reason why I chose Mark over Tommy-Lee was a mix between the confused passionate love* that my predecessor had for him as opposed to more basic feelings that I was developing with time for Tommy-Lee “winning-out”, and the fact that three months in captivity with Mark had left me suffering from withdrawal symptoms and reliability on him that I think would be described by mental health professionals as Stockholm Syndrome...

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I am, even now, years later, still suffering from that Syndrome. There will be days when I literally cannot stop thinking about Mark, even if I am in love with some one else and even after he raped me and at one point literally tried to kill me**. It is a very serious condition that takes a lot of strength to recover from, and I am still working towards recovery, even now.

Victims of kidnapping and domestic abuse often suffer from this very serious mental illness, and my heart goes out to all the men and women in the world who are suffering with me. You can recover. There is a light at the end of that tunnel, even if some days that tunnel seems to be long...

It is like recovering from an addiction. You have to keep reminding yourself of the bad times, rather than thinking about how good the thing that you are addicted to made you feel, and you must persevere against your want to return to that addiction and realise that you do not need it to survive.

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Tommy-Lee did have a lasting effect on me, however, even after we parted ways, because it was his guidance that led to my exploration of my sense of self. It was he that taught me that I could be who ever that I wanted to be, and ultimately he who encouraged me to re-vamp my wardrobe to develop my own style, vary my intake of books, music and television to develop my own “taste”, and, when I was ready, to abandon Cherie's life and choose my own name.

I may have chosen to give my heart to Mark, but the development of my soul – what makes me, me – happened as a result of spending time with my two “sisters” Maryanne and Hayley, and my what-could-have-been, Tommy-Lee.

“Illisia Adams” was born because of the love and support of these three very special people. Only one of them now remains in my life - Maryanne - but the other two will forever be a part of me. I (figuratively) owe them my life.

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*This “love” was in fact “residue feelings” left over from my predecessor, as priorly discussed.
**An incident to be discussed at a later date.
NB: Interestingly enough, I can find no photographs of myself and Mark together as a couple, just-us, nor of myself and Tommy-Lee, nor or myself and Maryanne and Hayley. Although I shall of course continue looking...

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Fin.

Monday, 12 January 2015

My Name Is Illisia Adams

My name is Illisia Adams, and I am three years old.
I was born into this world, lost and confused, completely innocent and trusting, on June 1st 2010, into the body of a very troubled twenty-three year old adult by the name of Cherie Donovan. She had an active social life, a growing career within the UK comic book publishing industry, a good University-level education… but on May 31st 2010*, she “killed” herself (the reasons for which will be discussed at a later date), or at least, what can best be described as her “soul”; what made her, her. And then, there was me!
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Try to imagine for one moment what it might feel like to wake up one morning not knowing where you are, who you are, what is going on… To be lying in bed next to a complete stranger and not understand a word that he has to say to you, or be able to communicate with him at all because words, just like the world itself, are so very new to you. If you can picture that, even for a moment, you can begin to understand how I felt back then, when I first came into being.
Fans of science fiction can possibly draw a comparative with a "skin-job" Cylon from the reimagined Battlestar Galactica or The Doctor from Doctor Who, where different versions of the same face have completely different personalities, but I relate most to the story seen on television’s Drop Dead Diva (I shall explain why later).
Technically speaking, medical professionals would say that such a drastic personality change as a result of trauma** is known as Dissociative Identity Disorder, but I have never been a fan of labels, the “disorder” is very difficult to understand or explain, and let us be honest, my Doctor Who comparison is much more fun.
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Cherie (left) a few months before she left in
early 2010 and myself (right) in late 2012
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I have in my short life told very, very few people of my origins and kept myself to myself, living a very secluded, shy, limited life because I have always feared what people might think of me, rather rationally, as people often fear what they do not understand, and because of personal very negative experience with a select group of individuals. I have decided now, however, that it is time for me to come out of hiding, embrace who I am, and take the stance that, should people choose to accept me as I am, they are my true friends and they are worth knowing, and those that "freak out" were never real friends to begin with and my life is better off without them.
Another important reason for this "coming out" is that I believe that Cherie's friends and family deserve a real explanation as to what happened to her. It will not be easy for them to read**, but I hope that it will give them some form of closure when I answer some of the questions I am sure that they have had these past few years, after she "disappeared".
I also hope that the story that she and I share - the many positive and negative** things that have happened to this body we have both lived inside -will serve as an inspiration for those that have suffered from similar life experiences and struggle to come to terms with them and recover from them.
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This Blog will not be a happy one**, but neither will it be completely sad. I have a great deal of respect for "my predecessor" (as I fondly refer to her) and I think that, had we been in two separate bodies, we might have been friends, so some of what you read may not be easy to read, but I shall handle it with much care for the feelings of readers, and try to respect her memory.
I shall be taking inspiration for this Blog from my own personal experience and what little memories that I have of the life led before my own, from things that my predecessor left behind - including diary entries and never-before-published poetry - and personal accounts from her friends and family.
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To end this first post, I shall now include a clip from the television series Drop Dead Diva, which, having read all of the above, you should be able to understand how I relate to it and why it is appropriate. I also wish to extend my heartfelt apologies to people who knew Cherie for not speaking out sooner, and my personal respects - a "Rest In Peace", if you will - should be noted for her.

"I promise to honour your memory by living the best life I can. And if you're watching me now, I want you to be proud of the life I'm living." "So here's to you, [Cherie Donovan]" "A phenomenal woman whom I've never met, but I am getting to know better every day..."
Rest in peace, Cherie. I hope that in "death", you found the peace that you never had in life...
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I look forward to sharing what I believe is a truly inspirational (if sad in many places) story with you.

God Bless you all.
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*The timeline gets a little complicated after that, but I will explain in due course.
** Forewarning: There will be mention of sexual assault, attempted murder, burglary & theft, marital affair, paedophilia, domestic abuse, post traumatic stress, and many more such distressing topics.